


Rainberry Blue

by Mothfly



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Alcohol, Anxiety, Drugs, M/M, Past, Song Fiction, based on a zayn album, because it could be anyone in the band really, it's harry but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 04:47:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20718323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mothfly/pseuds/Mothfly
Summary: A bad break-up has made Zayn into what he is today. It's hard to let go of a broken heart and he doesn't feel good. Anxiety has taken over and dictates all the choices he makes.





	Rainberry Blue

**Author's Note:**

> It's just a very short story based on Zayn's latest record Icarus Falls and has very little to do with the real persons. Who the other person is is really up to the reader but I had Harry in mind when I wrote it and thus that is the pairing. The character is based on the songs and totally fictional and if there are any traits similar to the real person then it is just a coincidence.

Dreams. He once had dreams. Dreams change. That was something he was painfully aware of now. His old dreams were no longer worth anything; fame, money, recognition. Nothing mattered. Not since his real dreams were shattered.

It started as something insignificant. A smile, a light touch on his hand, a brush against his arm. He never started anything, it was always _ him. _ Maybe he should have said no. Maybe he should have stopped _ him _ when _ he _ got too close, but he couldn’t. Who can? Not when it’s _ him. _

Another hotel room in another city, he didn’t really know where. Someone else kept track of his schedule, he just went where they told him to go. Did what they told him to do. Smile, sing, dance. ‘This is your life,’ they told him, ‘you need to do this or you are no one.’

“No one.” He mumbled the words while he stared at the ceiling. The cigarette in his hand glowed in the dim light. A non smoking room immediately turned into whatever you wanted it to be when you were a superstar. ‘It’s very handy,’ he thought when he took a deep breath and inhaled the sharp smoke. He held it in for as long as he could, almost choking before he heavily sighed and let the white smoke out again. 

_ He _had taught him how to make smoke rings. They had been laying in a hotel bed, in a room much similar to this, in a city none of them knew the name of, or cared to know the name of, giggling and nudging each other. 

“You smoke?” 

He was surprised, _ he _ seemed like such a straight A, momma’s boy. 

“Occasionally, it’s been known to happen,” _ he _ smirked and let the cigarette dangle in the corner of _ his _ mouth.

“I didn’t know.” 

They were young, too young to smoke, but still there they laid together, passing a cigarette between each other.

“This is how you do it,” _ he _ suddenly said when _ he _ took the cigarette. “You exhale and then you blow through the smoke.” _ He _ showed him how _ he _ made the perfect ring. 

“Wow!” 

How easily impressed he had been by the teenage boy beside him back then. Maybe that’s when he started to fall. _ He _ had been so cool and he had just been a nobody. A nobody who suddenly, overnight, had become somebody, a superstar. He had had a hard time to adjust and _ he _ was there beside him all the time. They all were but _ his _support meant the most. He was such a pathetic guy back then. Maybe he still was.

A knock on the door woke him up from his thoughts. 

“Hey, it’s time.”

He sighed and dragged himself out of bed. He didn’t want to go to the arena. He didn’t want to go out in front of thousands, tens of thousands, of people and sing his songs. He loved his fans but it was terrifying to stand on stage. His heart was pumping hard when he thought about it.

Someone started to pound frantically on the door.

“Hey, are you okay?” a worried voice shouted.

He should probably appreciate their concern but he was more annoyed by it. He jerked open the door.

“Yes,” he murmured while he avoided eye contact with the tall, muscular man outside his door. He quickly hurried past him. 

Bodyguards, they had made a sport out of hiding from them. _ He _ was an expert. _ He _ knew all the good places, all the places they could find refuge from the rest of the band. It was perhaps his biggest mistake, following _ him _ wherever _ he _ went, into every hideout _ he _ found. He couldn’t resist the boy. _ His _ smile, _ his _ coaxing words, _ his _ warm embrace. In _ his _ arms he was safe.

It had been strange, being thrown into a band with four guys he didn’t know. Everything was unfamiliar. It shouldn’t work. It was a band made for success, they were puppets controlled from above. Do this, pretend that and make it believable. So they did. And it worked. They bonded, friendships were formed and they thrived from the fame and fans. And _ he _ crawled into his bed at night.

“I’m cold.” 

That was _ his _ excuse that first night when _ he _ knocked on his door. He was flabbergasted when the boy gently pushed him aside and without hesitation walked over to the big bed and slid under the thick duvet. 

“Ok,” he stuttered.

“You should come here before you catch a cold,” _ he _ smiled and patted lightly on the bed beside _ him _. 

“Ehm, yeah, sure.” He felt his face slowly heat up. This was something other than hiding from the guards and the band. Something other than gentle touches when no one saw. 

“I’m not gonna bite. I mean, unless you want me too.” _ He _ snickered and dove under the duvet hiding completely. After a while _ he _ peeked up again. “Dude, come on, don't just stand there. Seriously, I am not gonna do anything. I just felt lonely.” _ He _ sighed. “I just missed you, okay.”

He slowly walked over to the bed and looked down at the tousled dark hair sticking up from under the duvet. He smiled when he crept in and joined _ him _. The two teenagers buried themselves under the white sheets and looked at each other.

“Is it true?”

“What is?”

“Did you really miss me?”

_He _ didn’t answer, instead _ he _ moved closer, close enough for their noses to touch. Each breath tickled his lips and the heat formed tiny drops of water on his chin. 

“Mm,” _ he _ mumbled into his mouth, “I really did.”

Yeah, maybe _ he _ did miss him that night. Maybe _ he _ was lonely. Perhaps the two were related or perhaps they weren’t. He would never know. Not anymore. He hurried down the corridor. His assistant was already waiting for him in the lobby and the car was parked out back. He glanced outside when he passed the locked main entrance; fans, hundreds of them, waiting for him to come out. He couldn’t deal with it. He wished he could but no, not today. His hands were trembling by the sounds of their screams and he could feel the sweat gathering at the hairline. Not again. He didn’t want to let his fans down, not today.

“Are you okay?” His assistant looked at him. She was worried. She always was nowadays. 

“Yeah, sure.” He avoided her gaze and looked down at his hands. He was rubbing them hard together. His foot was slightly moving, his face had turned pale and his heart was racing. 

“You need something?” 

She shouldn’t offer him anything, she knew that. He shouldn’t say yes and she hoped he didn’t. He peeked at her and nodded. She silently handed him a glass of whiskey and a benzo. 

“Please be careful.”

‘That’s all you have to say,’ he thought when he gulped down the tablett with the strong liquid. ‘You shouldn’t have asked me at all.’ The effect kicked in after a few minutes and he leaned back in the seat and took a deep breath. Maybe he could manage tonight after all.

“Stars.” _ He _ pointed at the dark sky and smiled. “We are stars, so we should be up there too.” _ He _ giggled. High as a kite, naked to the bare bone. They were laying on a beach in the caribbean.

He laughed at the newly turned 20 year old and rolled on top of _ him _.

“Aren’t you quite the philosopher?” He leaned down and kissed _ him _. “Happy Birthday.”

_He _ threw them around and gazed down at the man underneath _ him _ . There was something sad in _ his _ eyes for a brief moment. 

“You know I am darling.” 

This was probably the beginning of the end. He had thought about it many times but he wasn’t sure what had happened. Maybe _ he _ had gotten tired of him. Maybe _ he _ searched for something better. Maybe he wasn’t enough. He knew he wasn’t worthy of _ him _. He didn’t think anyone was. 

When they left paradise and everything went back to normal again something had changed. _ He _ had changed. _ His _ eyes were cold and _ his _ touches stiff. _ He _ avoided him whenever _ he _ could, took other ways, stayed away. He didn’t understand, started to ask questions and was even more shut out. In the end he couldn’t take anymore. There was nothing left for him.

Another glass of whiskey became two. It was no good, he wanted something stronger. 

“More benzo,” he begged his assistant. She shook her head. One was enough, especially when he had had liquor too. 

“Darling, it’s dangerous.”

“Don't darling me,” he exploded. “No one can darling me but _ him _ ,” he slurred. He knew it himself, that it was enough, but one darling was all it took for him to break down. He threw the bottle out the window. “I know what you think.” He glared at the assistant. “I should get over _ him _, it’s been years, but I don't give two shits about what you think.” He was wailing like a kid. A pathetic kid.

The crowd was roaring, calling his name, waiting for him. Every minute he didn’t enter the stage was another minute he disappointed them. He managed to gather himself and got out of the car, his eyes swollen and his nose running. He looked like hell. He felt like hell. He was in hell. 

“You are here now,” his assistant said when she held the door for him. “You can do this.” She hesitated, afraid that he would break down again, but then she smiled. It was warm, encouraging and comforting. He looked at her. What would he do without her.

“Mm, I think I can today.”

No one was taking notice of the man at the back of the huge arena. All eyes were on the stage. Anticipating young girls waiting for their idol. The young teenager who had grown up to be a man they desired for different reasons now. 

_His _ heart skipped a beat and a lump grew in _ his _ throat when the lights dimmed on stage and a slim figure entered. ‘He,’ _ he _ thought, ‘it’s him.’ Finally. _ He _ had been waiting for this moment for so long. Too long. _ He _ had no right to be there. Their ways had parted in the worst way possible. Harsh words had been uttered from both but _ he _ was the only one at fault. He had done nothing wrong but _ he _ had never explained that. Explained how _ he _ threw him away for a dirty affair _ he _ thought would lead to something more. A relationship on a whim. _ He _ sacrificed him for nothing. Sacrificed their love for a lie.

_He _ had realized straight away _ his _ mistake but there was nothing _ he _ could do. _ He _ was the worst scum but everyone thought it was his fault. No one understood the real reason for him leaving. They considered him to be the bad guy in the equation. _ He _ didn’t clear anything either and in the end _ he _ left too. _ He _ chose the coward’s way out. 

He was standing on the stage, feeling the atmosphere. The anxiety was still there, bubbling under the surface, but he refused to let it take control. He concentrated on the girls and boys on first row. Their smiling faces, their screams, their waving hands. This was what made him into someone. He wasn’t no one. _ He _ had made him feel like someone too. He wished he could feel that again but maybe his assistant was right. It was years ago, maybe he had to move on, get over the past and in the end forget what was. 

“Nobody said this would be easy

Nobody said this would be hard”


End file.
